


the first/final fight

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Gen, Post-Break Up, Pre-Canon, beatrice doesn't actually show up, hints to past e/b and future b/b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26316670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: “So, you’re willing to leave VFD for her, but not for me,” he concluded, keeping his voice pleasant.
Relationships: Bertrand Baudelaire & Beatrice Baudelaire, Bertrand Baudelaire & Ernest Denouement
Kudos: 9





	the first/final fight

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own ASOUE

“So, you and Beatrice are leaving,” Ernest said. The two of them were standing on the balcony outside his office. “After the wedding.”

“Yes,” Bertrand said, his voice calm and even. “We are.”

Ernest looked thoughtful. He took his time surveying the city streets. It was a busy day, the traffic, mixed with horses and cars, flowed underneath the cloudy gray sky. Then he turned slightly, leaning against the railings and offered Bertrand a smile. “So, you’re willing to leave VFD for her, but not for me,” he concluded, keeping his voice pleasant. 

Bertrand’s expression did not falter. “I don’t recall you asking me to,” he pointed out.

“Fair point,” Ernest agreed, his tone cordial but his gaze challenging. “But you wouldn’t have done it anyway even if I had asked … or would you?”

Bertrand shrugged. “You know I’m only ever going to answer that, no, I wouldn’t have.”  _ Because even if I would have, there’s no use in letting you regret - or pretend to regret - that you never asked. _

“There you go,” Ernest said lightly. “You wouldn’t have.” He casually met Bertrand’s eyes and held his gaze.

Bertrand didn’t look away. “My apologies,” he said. There’s some sincerity in his voice now, not too much, just enough to convey an acknowledgement.

Ernest waved it away. “Nothing to apologize for,” he said magnanimously. “I’d like to know why though.”

Bertrand studied him. “Well, leaving VFD for you actually meant something different, doesn’t it? It would’ve meant switching sides and joining the firestarters, which I’m not willing to do. It wouldn’t have meant running away from all of these.”

“Because you think I’m not going to agree to actually leaving and not coming back?” Ernest challenged.

Bertrand raised an eyebrow. “Would you have agreed?”

A pause.

“No,” Ernest conceded. “And you know why.”

Bertrand did. It would’ve complicated many things, put his brothers and his own life in danger, and ruined the current balance of the schism. There had never really been a choice for him. “Hobson’s choice,” he murmured.

Ernest smiled faintly. “Yeah.” He leaned forwards against the railings and sighed. “I do envy how you two could just leave, VFD’s just willing to let you go like that? If I knew it’s that  _ easy _ \- maybe I should’ve just  _ waited _ \- ” He whirled around to look directly at Bertrand. “You know, we never properly fought. After the breakup. Well, not before the breakup either. And of course, it’s even debatable if it counts as a breakup in the first place but - we never fought.”

Bertrand looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

Ernest’s lips pulled up, “Don’t you think we should?”

Bertrand tilted his head slightly. “In the name of closure?”

“Maybe,” Ernest said. “I mean, it’s always been fun with you. Pleasant. Enjoyable. And I liked that. Like that still. But you’re leaving, Bertrand.”

“Let me guess,” Bertrand said. “There’s no need to worry about not leaving on good terms if we fought, since we might never see each other again?”

“Exactly,” Ernest agreed. “Plus, it feels … not real without a proper fight. Like it’s never meant to be a serious thing. Like neither of us cared enough to fight.”

It  _ hadn’t  _ meant to be a serious thing. That _ had _ been what they’d agreed upon. A fling. Casual, fun, no fights, staying friends after the breakup.

“Which,” Ernest continued. “Was what we intended, so there’s no problem there. But we also chose not to fight because we worried that would ruin the possibility of being friends again - but you’re leaving. We don’t have to worry about that.”

Bertrand arched an eyebrow. “So you want a proper fight, is that it?”

A smile danced across Ernest’s lips briefly. “Are you refusing?”

Bertrand glanced at the city streets for a moment. “Very clever,” he murmured. “I suppose you have a topic in mind. I wouldn’t mind listening to what you have to say.”

“Ever the gentleman, you are,” Ernest said wistfully. “You make it very hard to fight with you.” He paused. “But since you don’t mind listening, I’ll go ahead.”

Bertrand nodded, and Ernest opened his mouth again before closing it. He frowned, deep in thought, as if to prepare himself, and then spoke again. “I’m jealous, actually. Not so much about the idea of you marrying Beatrice, but the idea that you two get to leave VFD - just like that. Easy, no repercussions. You get to be free. I wish I can say I’m not jealous but -” He drew a sharp breath.

Free wasn’t completely accurate, but it was close enough - or so Bertrand hoped it would be - so Bertrand didn’t correct him. The truth was a little more complicated.

VFD didn’t let volunteers go easily, especially not in the current climate. But he’d long wished to leave - and apparently, so had Beatrice. The opera night and the darts shot from their hands left a mark, but that really was just the last straw that broke the camel’s back. They both knew leaving wouldn’t have been easy, not without a good reason, not while they could still contribute to their side of the schism.

Beatrice and he ended up concocting a plan, that even if they couldn’t completely leave, it would help them distance themselves from the more dangerous and more morally questionable missions for a while. With Beatrice’s eloquence and charm and his well known good student reputation, they’d managed to convince the VFD higher ups that at the rate things were going, there wouldn’t be enough volunteers left to raise children who could become the next generation’s volunteers. Sure, they could always recruit outside of the organization, but experience had shown that in the times of the schism, children recruited from outside of the organization, children whose parents weren’t VFD, were more likely to defect to the other side than those from old VFD families. It would be useful to have two volunteers to “pretend” to leave VFD, raise children outside it but teaching them important VFD skills, and eventually provide the organization with useful new recruits.

At least, that was what they had told the higher ups. Of course, it’s also just an excuse for now, to cut ties because some days Bertrand felt he’s quite close to a line that once crossed, everything would change. If he kept going, some day he’s not going to be able to take all these. And that day was getting closer. It’s a delaying tactic, to catch a break for a while.

It was also a lie - or rather, the part about the children was. They would have to keep up pretenses and actually teach the children important skills, just in case someone was spying from a distance. But he and Beatrice both agreed that they didn’t actually want their children to join VFD - at least, not a VFD that was like this. But maybe it would change for the better in a few years, maybe in a decade it would be an organization they could accept. Or maybe VFD would cease to exist in a decade. And worse case, they would move away and go into hiding and get new identities. It’s a lie that they hoped would buy them at least a couple of years. Hopefully even a decade. Maybe even forever, but he knew the chances were quite low and he shouldn’t get his hopes up high.

He and Beatrice had worked well as a team before, and now they’re going to continue working as a team, only for a very different kind of challenge. They both wanted out, and marriage and kids were a perfect excuse. Plus, they liked each other well enough, had been friends long enough, and respected and understood each other. It’s not love yet, but they’d agreed that one day it might be. And they dreamed of kids, too, kids who could be raised in a very different environment than the one they had both been raised. Sometimes one could only choose the practical choice and hoped for the best. This was never a fairy tale, but a carefully concocted plan to earn a certain kind of freedom away from the organization.

He didn’t explain all these to Ernest. He’d always liked Ernest, but heart to heart conversations were rather not their thing. He could only offer an apology. “I’m sorry,” Bertrand said. “I know it’s not fair.”

Ernest smiled bitterly. “Not fair at all.” He looked away. “I think I hate you, just a little. Well, not really, but I’m so angry that you get to leave. I don’t have that choice. I _ never _ had that choice.”

“I know,” Bertrand repeated. “I’m sorry.” Because what else could he say?

“You’re so  _ understanding _ ,” Ernest muttered. “So damn  _ polite. _ Aren’t you supposed it’s my fault that I impulsively switched sides? That I only have myself to blame for being stuck in the current position?”

“That’s not what I think, though,” Bertrand said, which was the truth. It had always been far more complicated than that.

Ernest huffed, exasperated at how amicable Bertrand was, but then he deflated. “Do you love her?” He asked.

Bertrand froze. The only correct answer was of course “yes”, it was what he and Beatrice agreed on to pretend. It was necessary for the marriage, for the wedding all their friends would still attend. But he didn’t like lying to Ernest. For all they were never completely honest with each other, they usually did it by being deflective, by redirecting the topic to side step the questions artfully. Outright lies were never their style, it was an unspoken agreement but it was there. Perhaps he didn’t have to continue following it after their breakup, but a part of him still wished to.

Ultimately, though, the current plan with Beatrice came first, came before anything, including nostalgia brought by ex boyfriends. Still, he supposed he did love Beatrice as a friend, as a mission partner, as a long term partner who was about to go hand in hand with him into this new challenge. He couldn’t deflect this question, because then Ernest would realize he’s hiding something. But Ernest never specified which kind of love, so there’s a loophole there. “Yes,” he said, calm and sincere, if only a beat too late.

The moment of hesitation was too long, his posture was too tense for a minute, and Ernest’s previous frown shifted into a curious expression, and then a thoughtful one, until realization dawned on his face. He looked amused, now. “Aha,” he said softly. “So it’s like  _ that _ .”

_ This isn’t good, _ Bertrand thought. He considered his options on how to bluff his way out of this one.

“Don’t worry,” Ernest smirked. “I’ll keep your secret. Won’t even tell my brothers. I always approve of people plotting against and lying to VFD.”

Bertrand considered denying, perhaps pretending that he didn’t know what Ernest was talking about. But one wrong move could make Ernest decide to not keep this a secret, and he couldn’t afford that. Plus, all that weird not lying unspoken agreement loyalty thing was getting in the way. He should be less sentimental than this but unfortunately he wasn’t.

“In that case, thank you. I appreciate it.”

Ernest smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Not a problem.” He moved close to Bertrand at a fast speed, and gave him a quick peck on the lips - the first (and the only, the last) one after their breakup. “Happy marriage, darling.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
